


Crimson Flame

by nameless_trash



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Introspection, POV Second Person, Short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2018-12-25 07:38:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12031236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nameless_trash/pseuds/nameless_trash
Summary: A series of drabbles featuring Kouen





	1. Longing

**Author's Note:**

> I had a bunch of moments I wanted to write but they didn't flow in 1 fic so this mess is what we have

Sentimentality was not something you felt - it was not something you allowed yourself to feel. Sentimentality only holds you back from moving on.

Even so, you feel it in the ache of limbs that are no longer yours. You feel it in the warm, dusty winds of your deserted island, your refuge. It weaves itself around you in the loud and incessant squawks of hungry seagulls. It snaps at you in your quickly fading strength and ever growing age, void of the beings that called you their king. 

But that's all in the past. That belongs to a man known as Ren Kouen, the fool who sought to unite the world in peace through bloody wars. And to the world, he is dead.

The dead have no need, no _place_ to yearn for things long lost.


	2. Emperor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time and tide waits for none

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trash and I don't know what this is

You were once hailed as the emperor of flames; Astaroth's white flames burned at your beck and call - they blazed eternal until you commanded it. Even so, the fire that day still rages on in your dreams. And you, a man who had so much power, could not quell the unrest.

You were too slow, much too slow. You never caught a glimpse of the fire that consumed the people you loved. All you had were the ashes left behind to be scattered to the wind and another useless djinn.

The newly attained Phenex did not, _could not_ , grant you the power to heal the dead.

Then, you were anything but an emperor. Now, it's honestly not that much different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Guess what I realised (after a few months whoops) He only obtained Phenex years after their deaths. So this doesn't work. Imagine if it did.


	3. Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You built a wall around yourself so none may hurt you. But no one can touch you either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a mess

In the ashes of that day, armed with a blade to remind you of their existence, you swore to protect all they held dear. You swallowed your grief, your anger, your pride, your hatred. You ignored the bitterness it left in your mouth and the emptiness in your ribs. 

_What good would they serve?_

You fortified your heart with Agares' strength and Astaroth's flames, healed the wounds of the past with Phenex. You made yourself untouchable to all-

Except the darkness housed within you. You dyed yourself in their blackness.

But still you would continue forwards, never once looking back at the path you paved through raw strength and carnage.

Perhaps the younger you had been one of the casualties. You didn't know, and you still don't.


	4. Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a necessary evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is he getting out of character

It turned out Phenex wasn't so useless after all. You couldn't save them, but you could save the country they built and loved with all their being.

The fallen white dragon is baring his fangs at his own family. He would tear the mighty Kou Empire asunder, breaking it into two, into three. But you would not allow it. 

Phenex's curse would ensure he remains of no threat - he would not turn his blade against you or your brothers. He will pay the price of his bloodlust and he will experience hell but-

_What is one life in the face of hundreds of thousands?_


	5. Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even is the flow of a story

You were made of blood and steel. A soldier's life was bred into your very being, in your thunderous gait and clenched fists. It still lingers in your stern eyes and sterner lips.

Now, you can't find the formidable strength that made you a general. 

Years ago, you traded three limbs for three lives. The phantom aches will never truly be lost and your wooden prosthetics will always be a brutal reminder of the days bygone.

But a boy with shocking yellow hair rises from the dead and barrels back into your life. You know things will change again.


End file.
